A Small Gift
by Zaffreglow
Summary: What happened to Magolor between the events of Kirby's Return to Dream Land and Kirby's Dream Collection.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Any resemblance this fanfic has to anyone else's is pure coincidence. I've only read a few fics that pertained to what I'm writing about, and none of them portrayed things in the way I've been wanting to. Also, I apologize for the errors you will inevitably find, it's been a while since I wrote anything.

**A Small Gift**

Chapter 1  


After bidding farewell to Kirby and his friends, Landia and the Lor Starcutter vanished into a star-shaped, shimmering portal. Within that portal, the vastness of dimensional space greeted them, and they flowed through it like fish in a suspended river. After a time of wading past countless sparkling stars, a second portal opened before them, this time revealing the welcoming glow of their home, Halcandra. But rather than going straight to the bubbling nesting place held in the searing, yet comfortable heat of the volcanic hills, the ship and the four independent segments of Landia veered to the outskirts of the massive mechanical factory that dominated the rest of the region.

Out in these lands, further away from where machines were produced, and the sounds of constant pounding and hammering was as distant as a whispering wind chime, there was a long-abandoned settlement that once housed a bustling village. Here, the earth was cracked from dry air and dead soil. Houses that were proud and beautiful at one time now sagged where they stood, little pieces of themselves chipping away everyday like quiet tears. Bigger pieces fell without the support of the smaller pieces, making holes in walls and roofs, littering debris on floors. Some houses were so far gone that only wooden, splintered limbs protruding from the ground remained. The items inside them suffered exposure to the elements, filthy and crumbling against the harsh, dusty air.

The Lor Starcutter found itself a place to roost its gleaming hull in a mound of rust-colored dirt, settling its silvery oars down to rest, the ship looking as glorious and radiant as the stars themselves against the dilapidated village. Landia touched down as well, landing on many claws nearby the vessel as the four separated dragons looked around, searching and seeking with their large, yet knowing eyes.

One dragon lifted back up into the air, going in a spiral towards the towering factory, beating its wings quickly and swiftly. Before long, it was swooping around tall metal structures and under humming conveyor belts, passing the ever-working robots and hurriedly spinning cogs, peering around for something specific. Although nothing with a living, beating heart remained in this place, in its glory days, it was something created to make life better for the people that had poured themselves into its construction. One such machine, maintained and polished by the robots with mindless efficiency, still continued its role of producing a verity of food for mouths that were no longer around to satisfy. When the food piled up, the robots would toss it out, never thinking to turn it off, thus leaving it to serve its only purpose endlessly. This dragon came down where the belts pulled plates of fresh, synthetic food out of the metal interior of the machine, made to look and taste just like the real thing, steaming and supple and inviting. With care and dexterity, the dragon picked up by the tip of its mouth a plate of meat dumplings, and with even more care and attention to balance, it flew back.

The second dragon ran on its feet into one of the houses that still had its walls standing. With wings tucked to its sides, it nosed around, going in and out of the small rooms, gazing over tired furniture, the drooping doors of cabinets, fallen baubles of sentimental value, and faded paintings held crooked on the likewise faded walls. This part of Landia now entered a room with a small bed. Its attention came to a blanket on the bed, its color a washed out baby blue, its edges frayed and various holes in its weave. Otherwise, it was mostly intact, enough to keep a person a little warmer on a cold night. This dragon plucked up the blanket in its mouth, and pulled it slowly off the bed as to avoid stretching those delicate woven threads. It made its way back outside.

The third dragon took to the skies, circling around the village, directing its piercing stare to the houses, between the houses, and around the houses. Like the other parts of itself, Landia was seeking something specific, gliding around in the air until it found a simple, metal water pail laying lonely on its side. It swooped down, dragging its feet into dirt until it came to a stop. This dragon then turned, and picked up the pail in its mouth by the thin, cold handle. The bucket had dents all over, and holes inside, but fortunately, none of those holes were at the bottom, so it could still carry about half as much as it normally could without loss, if handled properly. Landia sought to fill this pail with water, but knew that the village well was as dry as the stones it was crafted with. It instead flew back to the metal city, alive in comparison to the village with its whirring parts and dancing electricity. Tracking down one of many hovering rectangular stretches of water, Landia dragged the bucket through the fluid, filling as much as the holes would allow. Though stagnant and stale, the water was still drinkable. This dragon was quick to return with the dripping bucket.

And lastly, the fourth dragon remained in the village, walking around on its stubby legs, peering around assertively. It moved from one house to another, stopping at each one to stare at it analytically for a time, as if trying to sense something invisible before moving onto the next house at a steady pace. Landia stopped at one particular house, one that was in better shape than the rest, though barely. The dragon stared, and stared some more, seeing, listening, feeling. It nodded to itself, the motion made almost unseen. And while still staring, it now waited, doing nothing else.

Where this dragon waited outside the door of this house, another dragon returned with a worn blanket in its mouth. Then another dragon returned carrying a half-pail of water. Then the last dragon returned with a plate of still steaming food. The four of them whom settled on the ground with their items now stared at this house, together, quietly. The night sky shined above them with glittering stars, in patches where the fog of the factory and soot from the volcano didn't blot them out.

After a while, Landia decided now was the right time. The dragon holding nothing pressed its head against the brittle door, and with strained creaks, pushed it open wide enough for the other three to make their way in. The interior showed a few rooms more, in better shape, as the occupants of this particular house stayed around a bit longer than the rest. Those ones had big dreams, big hopes, and a lot of love. As if the essence of these ancient emotions still remained, frozen by time, hidden in walls and resting on furniture, the four dragons stood there, staring up, sensing and feeling in the dead silence. It was another extended moment of stillness before the fourth dragon proceeded further, waddling slowly to a smaller room with another closed door, which it gingerly nudged open.

Despite its wear, this room was cozy, managing to survive without suffering holes or gaps. A single window where light filtered through made a painting on the opposite wall well bleached from its daily presence, but only the gentle glow of the distant volcano was keeping the room illuminated enough for things to be visible now in the night. A closed, dusty chest of old trinkets and knickknacks rested next to an even older wooden bed, one that lacked any sort of sheets, but still carried a little mattress with brittle springs, and a smaller pillow with no fluff left in its feathers.

It was this bed that Landia approached, the dragons carrying items entering the room behind the dragon carrying nothing, and setting their objects down on a withered rug over the floor for now. The eight blue eyes stared at a small form resting on the old bed. Adorned in blue and white and gold, eyes closed, gloved hands limp against the mattress, Magolor laid on his side, not sleeping, but unconscious. A dragon's nose made contact against his cheek, rocking gently against him a few times, and then a few times more, repeating until consciousness slowly began to rise within a mind previously occupied by darkness. The nudging started to register as a feeling, and awareness of not knowing what was touching him surfaced shortly after. In a brief panic, as if trying to fight off a horrid nightmare, Magolor's hands swatted at the dragon's face in a random flailing, terror gripping him even before he could open his eyes to see what was there.

Landia permitted a few slaps to that face before backing away from the bed, giving Magolor more room to have his little awakening struggle. Those gloved hands continued to fly around himself until he realized he was hitting empty air, and with that, his dimly glowing yellow eyes blinked open in a tired strain. Initially, he couldn't see well enough to determine his location, nor the presence of Landia, everything being in an unfocused blur. He sat himself upright on his spherical tush, rubbing his eyes with his hands to coax his vision into working properly. Hands removed, he tried again to see. Things were a little clearer now, focus gradually returning and images becoming discernible. And the first thing Magolor recognized was the eight blue orbs focused on him, perpetually angry and staring relentlessly.

"Landia..." he spoke.

With that word, he realized his mouth was dry, and an itch in his parched throat made him stop talking as a sudden coughing fit attempted to ease the irritation. One dragon promptly lifted the pail of water, and it passed from one head to another until it was placed on the bed, directly in front of Magolor. He took notice of this after the coughing passed, and upon seeing the clear fluid inside, he quickly lifted the bucket to lips that were hidden just under his scarf, drinking quietly and earnestly, with the holes facing away from him as to not let any spill. The water wasn't particularly refreshing, but it did quell his throat and hydrate his mouth. Once the fluid was all drained, he sighed out in relief, setting the bucket down and pushing it away from himself, putting a sad gaze on the eyes watching him.

Had this situation been something that occurred in the past, he knew well that he would have tried to flee Landia's impending wrath. He would have first tried to fight it off away from himself, and failing there, he would instead run. If cornered, he would have been terrified, fighting with whatever he had left to preserve his own life. Even though it was only a short time ago that he would have done these things, such reactions seemed so long and far away, like they were ages past. The difference between then and now was that he had the clarity of knowing true fear. Landia wasn't the menacing force it had been to him before. He'd only just woken up from experiencing things far, far worse.

Not knowing what else to do, Magolor put his palms to the mattress in front of himself, and tipped his oval body to be bowing down before the four dragons, his eyes closed.

"I'm.. sorry..." he stated uneasily. "For everything..."

One of the dragons' maws opened as Landia responded, "You had been warned. You were told not to do this. You didn't listen."

Magolor nodded mournfully. Landia continued, its many stares as harsh as the glare of a sun.

"You came here, to Halcandra, seeking the power of the Ancients. You sought that power for your own selfish gains. You were told the Master Crown was dangerous. You tried to take it by force. Then you stole the Lor Starcutter, and you tried again. You attacked Landia with the Ancient vessel. And when that failed..."

Magolor could feel those eyes on him even harder than before. He visibly cringed as his hands when into a strained grip on the mattress, but otherwise made no movements.

"..You got someone else to attack Landia for you. You lied to them to achieve this. You then stole the crown."

One by one, each head of the dragon spoke.

"Liar." said one.

"Thief." said another.

"Selfish." one hissed.

"Greedy." said the last.

"And..stupid." Magolor finished the train of thought in a broken voice. "I had no idea. I never thought...I never imagined..."

"And you never listened." Landia interjected.

"I never listened," he admitted. "All I wanted..was to be strong..."

Magolor sighed heavily into the mattress. He remembered how it all started. He had lived in Another Dimension for as long as he could remember. He didn't have parents, essentially surviving there by himself. Whether or not that was where he really was born, he didn't know. But the Sphere Doomers native to the place didn't take kindly to his presence. Even when Magolor was very young, those monsters would often chase him around, gleeful to his fearful nature and vulnerability, tormenting him at every opportunity to do so, cackling, screeching, biting at him. Magolor was forced to live most of his life fleeing and hiding from the danger they presented to him as a daily activity for their own amusement. The day he had enough of their menace was the day he decided he needed to be strong. Strong, powerful, so that he could finally fight back. So that he could get revenge on them.

Magolor eventually figured out how to manipulate the many wormholes winding in and out of Another Dimension, and used them to travel around the galaxy. He visited many places, and spoke with many creatures, but never permitted any of them to have his trust. He learned of Halcandra, of the Master Crown, and of Kirby. Especially Kirby. The name came up so often, he realized this would be someone he might yet meet. But his priority was to the Master Crown. If he could rule the universe, then those Sphere Doomers would never mess with him again. He would have the power to end them once and for all, and he was willing to do anything it took to achieve this. Any deception, any violence, any crime would be worth it all if he could have the last laugh!

"Vengeance. Hatred." said Landia coldly, as if feeling Magolor's thoughts. "You didn't want to be strong. You wanted to inflict suffering. And that's exactly what Landia warned you about. The Master Crown can sense these things in the hearts of those who wear it. Only those who can resist dark desires can resist the will of the crown. You ignored these warnings."

"I thought..I could handle it..." he sighed defeatedly. "But...I was wrong..." Magolor shuddered subtly with the burden of knowing just how wrong he had been.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

From the moment the Master Crown was on Magolor's head and he felt that initial surge of power, he was distantly aware the crown's will was right there with him, flowing through him as the power did, gratifying him with indulgence. Magolor certainly didn't care at the time, as he believed he could easily command over it if needed be. But what he didn't realize was that he was reveling so much in his newly acquired abilities, basking in the glory of mightiness, that he never paid attention to the fact that the crown was clutching his cranium like a blood-sucking jellyfish, thirsty and ravenous. Its influence was a cold poison being poured into the stream of his thoughts, killing the good, feeding the bad.

With arms spread in his new form as his mind was slowly, calculatedly being pulled deeper into corruption by the crown, he felt a new, wonderful urge to do more than just get revenge on the Sphere Doomers. With all this power, he should_ use _it! And what better way to use ultimate power than to reign and destroy? To make absolutely everyone pay for what he had to suffer through? No one could stop him. The universe was now a field to flex his authority. If anyone might try to fight back, if anyone might even _dare_ to think to question his rule...he would silence them..._forever!_

**"Welcome your new overlord!"** he thundered giddily, maliciously, to those four who no longer mattered to him. What were their names? That wasn't important anymore. They were just obstacles to be eliminated now.

Magolor entered Another Dimension, and those Sphere Doomers immediately sensed his power. They quivered.

"You all are going to take orders from _me_, starting NOW!" he shouted authoritatively, his voice seeming to boom across the entire dimension in ripples. "Eliminate my enemies, or I'll destroy you all _myself!_"

The Sphere Doomers rallied up, and before long, Kirby, his friends, and Landia were traveling in pursuit. The feathered swirling beasts all converged, jaws wide, flying and racing to be the first to destroy the company. Magolor felt a sadistically joyous welling in his chest, utter gratification in being able to command over the Sphere Doomers that had agonized him for so long, and relished in watching them die for his whims. It all felt so, so good.

And yet...a desire for more festered inside him.

When the group was starting to gain ground after mowing through so many Sphere Doomers, Magolor flexed the power of the crown again, using it to turn even the Lor Starcutter into a subject of his rule. He was so focused on manipulating its every move, that he never realized its corruption was mirroring his own, reflecting the darkness that was quickly overtaking his heart and soul. The Master Crown wriggled in delight.

And when it finally came to battling against them himself amid the blue and purple miasmas of the dimension, Magolor channeled the crown's power even more, tapping so much into it that it was beginning to throb like a slowly beating heart on his skull. The more he opened its power to him, the more its will flowed, eagerly learning of his body, anxiously seeking ways he could be better warped to suit itself as a proper host. But Kirby and his friends continued to be a pain, dodging his attacks and wearing him down. Those surges of good feelings he had were crumbling into hatred towards the pink puffball, appalled that something this small and weak-looking was getting the better of him when he had access to limitless power.

In frustration, Magolor forced more of the crown's power into himself, causing dark static to crackle around him like angry, thrashing lights, his eyes glaring and deepening in their red hue. A hideous roar reverberated from his mouth. Had it not been for the Master Crown's influence, he might have caught on to how monstrous he sounded, but he was much too glutted on power and hatefully enraged to even consider it as being strange. The destruction of these four creatures was the only thing dominating his thoughts now, and he was fighting obsessively to meet that end, holding nothing back, throwing everything he had at them.

Then, it all went horrifically wrong.

With Magolor was at his limits, Kirby put him under the sharp blows of his ridiculously enormous sword, each slash cutting down stronger than the previous one. This was the moment the Master Crown had been carefully setting Magolor up for. He tapped so much into the power of the crown that its will had well invaded every recess of his being. He was too physically and mentally weak to even try to resist it. There was no chance for him to command over it now. It was far too late.

He felt a pain akin to being immolated alive as golden hexagonal runes and black fire exploded over his body. There was nothing but white, fading away into nothing but black. There were sounds like thunder striking.

Magolor couldn't see anything. He was aware he still had eyes, he blinked them, but there was only darkness. His body felt different. There was a sensation of metal wrapping around himself, reaching like tentacles and gripping like claws. The runes behind his hands changed, a different force guiding them. But these things weren't the worst of it all. He soon realized his mouth was open, and he couldn't close it. It was fixed into a dripping smile, a smile that didn't reflect the silent terror welling up in him. It mounted further when he realized he couldn't close his mouth because there was something inside it, something forcing it to be wide open. It was a spherical object he could feel moving on its own, independently, moist and smooth. Something bulbous on the object rolled under his lips.

Fear made his senses shudder and shook him to his core as the horrifying realization settled in.

_This was a giant eyeball._

In the blind darkness, feeling his body moving to the will of the crown, feeling the eyeball's iris darting in his mouth, Magolor only had his panicked thoughts left.

_I don't want this anymore! I don't want this anymore! Make it stop! Make it end! I wish I never touched the crown! I wish I could take it all back! I don't want this anymore! Help me, help me, anyone, please, help me, end it, make it stop, I don't want this anymore, I don't want this anymore, I don't want this anymore!_

Magolor screamed. His eyes flashed open, sweating rolling down his face from under his hood. His little heart beat in his chest so hard, it was nearing painful. He gasped for air and clutched his chest, silently commanding his body to calm down. Slowly, slowly, the beats stopped pounding, until they were thumping at a gentle rhythm. He looked up and noticed Landia was still there. He was still sitting on the mattress in the abandoned house.

"You fell unconscious again." one of the heads spoke.

Magolor felt a great sense of relief at this news. The nightmare had indeed been stopped.

"Landia..." Magolor started, still subtly quivering from the memory. "I'll..I'll do anything to make it up. Anything at all. I'm just grateful to be me again..."

One of the heads brought up the plate of meat dumplings, and placed it on the mattress as it had for the pail of water. A nose nudged it towards him. For a moment, Magolor looked at the food and Landia in confusion.

"You need to eat." Landia stated flatly. "You're still weak. You'll keep passing out if you don't get your strength back."

At this information, Magolor sighed lightly and nodded softly. He picked up one of the dumplings in his gloved hands. By now, the steam was gone, the only heat remaining was a bit of warmth in its center. Nonetheless, he brought it to his mouth, opening, and then quickly shutting as a twang of fear plucked his heart. His mouth. The eye.

"The Master Crown is gone now, Magolor. Its presence is not with you anymore." he heard a dragon say.

Soothed by these words, he tried again. He opened his mouth, and carefully placed the dumpling inside. He chewed meticulous. There was only food in his mouth. He chewed at a faster pace, his body sagging in relief. Magolor brought the plate closer to himself, and started eating the rest of the food hungrily, his appetite returning as the stress eased. Once the plate was cleared, he pushed it away from himself again, and placed his hands over his now filled tummy.

"Thank you." he said, looking drowsy. The last item was now handed over, the frayed blanket. Without questioning, Magolor took the blanket, and noticing its fragile state, wrapped it carefully around himself. Although he was fully clothed, the extra warmth was well welcomed.

"For now, all you are to do is rest and recover," explained Landia. "How you will make this up, is something that will be discussed when you are in a normal state of health."

Magolor nodded sleepily. He rolled and landed his head on the exhausted pillow, quickly slipping into a proper, restful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Over the next few days, Landia tended to Magolor's needs. It brought him food and water from the buzzing metal city. It scavenged the village for more blankets to keep him warm at night, and little toys or devices to keep him occupied in his bed-ridden hours of being awake.

With three blankets pulled up to his white scarf, Magolor was engrossed with a baseball-sized glass sphere, bearing cog-shaped marks painted all around it. After turning it over a few times in his hands, he held it up high enough for the light through the window to hit it, which caused large cog patterns to refract against a wall. Amused, Magolor's eyes closed into a smile, but then reopened as a question came to mind. He patiently waited for Landia to return to check on him.

When the familiar sounds of Landia's many footsteps reached him, he turned under the blankets to look towards the door. Sure enough, one, then two, then three and four, Landia entered the room. One dragon carried that familiar bucket of water, another balanced a plate of curry and rice.

"Landia?" Magolor asked, like a child addressing a babysitter.

"Yes?" responded one of the unburdened heads.

Magolor looked downwards for a moment as he considered how to phrase his question, setting the glass sphere on the mattress at the same time.

"...Did..you bring me here, to this village?"

"Were you hungry or thirsty now?" Landia asked, disregarding the question.

Magolor blinked. "Well..I can wait. I was just..thinking..I don't know how I got here. I don't know why I'm here...so...did you bring me here?"

As he asked, Landia set the items down on the old rug to focus the attention of each dragon on him. After a few tense moments of just staring, a dragon's mouth opened.

"You teleported yourself here."

"I...what?" Magolor was stunned. Landia's many eyes seemed to stare harder on him.

"You teleported yourself here."

"But..." he blinked again, with a slight shaking of his head. "...I can't do something like that. I can use the wormholes in Another Dimension, I can go there and back, but I...I can't teleport."

Landia's blue stare felt particularly unpleasant. "Is this something you are ready to discuss now? You're not fully recovered yet. You still need more time to rest."

"Do you know something, then?" Magolor sat up abruptly in the bed, the blankets sliding down to a slump at his waist. "Tell me! I've never been able to teleport before! Not until I..."

Magolor's eyes suddenly went wide. The Master Crown. Did Landia lie? Was there still some of the crown's presence with him? He was able to teleport around easily with the power he gained from it, but if the crown was destroyed and he still had that power...

"No!" he cried sharply. He leaped out of bed, causing the painted glass sphere to drop to the floor and shatter from the impact. He floated across the floor at a running pace, right past the dragons, not exactly caring which way he was going, for he was running as if to run away from himself.

There was a fluttering of wings. There was a klunk against a piece of furniture. Magolor's hands whiffed around, clenched into fists, punching the air and punching objects, punching scaly skins. Something bright and fiery shot off.

**BOOM!**

Magolor regained focus out of his panic from the sudden noise. He was laying back on the floor in the main room of the house, dragons pinning him down. Shards of wood clinked to the ground as he looked up to notice a fresh hole in the roof, its edges searing with wisps of smoke. He could see the cool night stars up high. He felt sapped of his strength and short of breath.

"Idiot!" a dragon hissed. "If you are going to run around like a fool, then you're not ready to talk about this!"

"But I—this is—I don't—" he stammered in a ramble.

One of Landia's mouths came down to bite Magolor's hand, piercing through the thick fabric to prick his skin, but not hard enough to draw blood.

"Ouch!"

"Listen. Stop thinking. Don't do anything. You're going to make yourself worse all over again at this rate!" Landia chided. Magolor finally gave his full attention to the dragons piled on top of him. "You will be taken back to your bed. You will calm down. If you wish to know more about what has happened to you, then you will not run off. You will need to be rational and think clearly. You will only hurt yourself if you let your fears control you. Do you understand?"

Magolor nodded in silence like a timid child scolded.

"Good."

With that, the four dragons carried Magolor back to the little room, setting him down on the tired mattress, tucking him under the old blankets, ignoring the glass shards on the floor as their scales were too thick for them to pierce. All the while, he was breathing steadily, trying to keep himself calm as Landia requested, though his fears could not be prevented as he continued to worry over what the crown did to him. Was it something he'd be better off not knowing about? No, he had to find out. If it was anything he could keep from getting worse, then he absolutely needed to know so he could stop it. If any of the Master Crown's sentience remained within himself, he didn't want it to have even a chance to breathe the same air as him.

"Do you feel better?" a dragon asked.

"Yes." Magolor answered quickly. "I'm okay. Whatever it is you have to tell me, I want to know. I promise I won't freak out."

"Then you shall be told," it responded. "As Landia explained, you teleported yourself here. After Kirby and his allies defeated you—or rather, the Master Crown—it was destroyed. Completely. When you reverted back to your normal self, you teleported. If you did this without realizing it, then it was likely a subconscious decision. Why do you suppose you would come here, of all places?"

Magolor looked around the room again. He had spent a lot of time in this village despite its disrepair, making it his little base of operations while he was trying to locate the crown and repair the Lor Starcutter. Though he was busy and full of ambitions, he did enjoy the general peace of the abandoned village, and found comfort in being able to relax without worry of Sphere Doomers trying to bite and scream at him. He sighed as he recalled these gentle memories.

"I guess...because I felt safe and secure here." Magolor finally answered.

"Then yes," it continued. "You spent enough time here to see this as a home. So your unconscious mind wanted you to be here."

"That doesn't explain why I can—"

"It explains how you got here," the dragon interrupted. "Landia wanted to get that out of the way. Now Landia can explain why you can teleport. However..."

Magolor's lemon eyes got bigger as he waited for the sentence to finish.

"...Landia can not say for certain what the reason is, because there are two reasons such a thing could have happened. Landia doesn't know which reason it is, but both of them do not involve the Master Crown's influence. That is gone. Your will is your own."

"You're very sure of this?" Magolor asked, scrunching up a portion of the blankets between his hands tensely.

"Absolutely. These powers you have..they may not have originated from the crown. And even if they _did _originate from the crown, the crown's presence did not come with them. The only one who could abuse these powers now is you."

"I understand." Magolor nodded solemnly. He exhaled a held breath in deep relief with the confirmation of being freed.

"Now then. As for the two reasons...one reason is that it could have been a result of wearing the crown. It may have been that you became so infused, that you absorbed these abilities within your being. Some of the powers you had while being crowned are yours, abet a weaker version of them, but yours to wield nonetheless."

"What about the other reason?" Magolor asked with hope in his eyes. He didn't like the idea of the Master Crown leaving him with any part of itself, even if it was only some of the powers it had.

"The second reason..." Landia looked at him more fully with all eight eyes. "Is that you had these powers all along."

Magolor blinked widely at such a thought. Landia continued.

"The crown can give great powers to those who wear it...or it can enhance the powers its wearer already has. So it's possible that it brought these things out of you, things you didn't realize you had. Things that were natural to you."

Magolor gripped the blanket in his hands, with enough force to pop a few of the brittle strings.

"Landia..." he started, feeling like his blood had stopped running and his lungs stopped breathing. "...Landia...do you...maybe...do you know what I_ am?_"

For the first time, Landia looked at Magolor with vague sadness in its otherwise aggressive stare. All four heads seemed to sigh through their noses.

"Landia does not know what you are. Landia only knows that you are Magolor, someone who did many bad things, and someone who needed to be stopped for the safety of the whole universe."

Magolor dipped his head down dejectedly, the little pointy appendages on his head drooping as well. For a moment, he almost thought that Lanida might have known more about himself than he did. Though he never dwelled on such questions, knowing what he was or if Another Dimension was really where he came from would have been nice. Another small sigh ruffled against his scarf.

"It's interesting," Landia started again. "You said before, you wanted to be strong. You may have been strong all along. And if you train yourself, if you learn and control these powers..you wouldn't need any object to be powerful. It would all be your own strength."

That idea got his attention back from his lull. "Then..I would be able to keep those Sphere Doomers off my back...when I..return..to Another Dimension..." What little enthusiasm he had started to fall apart as he finished his sentence. Magolor was finally beginning to realize that he wasn't happy in Another Dimension. He never was. It didn't feel like a home to him anymore, not when there was the serenity of Halcandra and the joys of Popstar he became so accustomed to.

"Don't think about things like that. Eat, drink, rest, recover. That's all you need to be doing now. You can decide what you will do when you're better."

"...Yes..I'll worry about it later." he said, while still looking downcast. The dragons placed the plate and bucket in front of him on the bed. Magolor ate and drink while trying very hard not to think about what he would do once he was better, but scattered thoughts kept escaping. He couldn't go back to Popstar, Kirby and his friends would be quick to drive him off if they ever saw him again. He couldn't stay here on Halcandra, he knew Landia wouldn't allow it. He didn't want to go back to Another Dimension, even if he had the power to stop the Sphere Doomers from attacking him now.

_Stop thinking about it_, he scolded himself as he chewed. What was something good to think about instead? He tried remembering when he was traveling on the Lor Starcutter. That was fun, exploring, wondering what he would find next. Excavating it from the volcano was fun, and even repairing it had been fun after the failed assault against Landia. Building, crafting, those are good, fun things. He didn't really know he had talent for that until he got started. Maybe thinking about things he could build would be good. What could he make when he was better? Or does that count as thinking about what Landia told him not to think about? Landia had to have meant bad things, things that would stress him out. Good things to think about, things that make him feel good, those would be okay, surely.

After Magolor finished his food and water, he laid down to sleep some more, this time with ideas filling his head about fun things he could build, and how he would craft them.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Once a full week had passed since Landia found Magolor, he was in better shape. He had continued his recovery without a hitch, and kept himself in better spirits with motivating things to think about. Occasionally, he would be shuddered by memories of wearing the crown, but he would quickly shoo those thoughts out of his head. In the latter half of the week, Landia would also force him to get up from time to time, making him float around the house and lift things with his hands to get him some exercise. When Landia was satisfied with his state of health, its next visit with Magolor got straight to business.

As usual, the four dragons stood at the side of the bed, and addressed its patient once he'd woken up.

"Magolor."

"Yes?" came his simple response, watching the group carefully.

"You're well enough to leave now, so Landia will not be taking care of you anymore. It's time to discuss what you can do to make up for what you've done to Landia and Halcandra."

Magolor nodded, pushing the blankets off himself fully. Among other things, he did wonder what it was that Landia would have him do. Three of the dragons exited the room while one stayed to continue speaking.

"Follow."

Again, Magolor nodded, and hovered himself off the bed, drifting behind the fourth dragon. He was lead outside of the house, back into the dusty heat of the village's daytime. Stopping for a moment, Magolor looked up at the smoggy sky, and sniffed the rusty air. It was good to be outside again, even if in these conditions. He then noticed the dragons, all four of them, had their heads and fierce blue eyes pointed in the same direction. Magolor turned to see what they were looking at, and into view came the glistening sheen of the Lor Starcutter. For the whole week it had sat there, not so much as a speck of dust dared to touch its cool metals.

All Magolor could do was float there and stare at it, feeling his heart thumping harder in his little chest from the sight of that glorious ship. After allowing Magolor to have some moments to himself, Landia broke the silence with a restrained voice.

"What you can do to make up for what you've done, is take good care of the Lor Starcutter."

Magolor swiveled to face Landia, his yellow eyes shocked wide. Landia returned the gaze with eight glaring eyes.

"Is that a problem?"

Speechless, Magolor's eyes dimmed out of their glow, gaining a glossy look as tears started to show themselves. He quivered, shuddered, and then flew back into the house, his cape fanned out fully from the force. Landia returned inside, to the little room, finding Magolor with his head buried in the withered blankets, his throat being throttled by choking sobs.

"Why are you crying?" Landia asked with a vague hint of sympathy in those eight eyes.

Magolor pounded a fist against the mattress a few times. After several minutes of getting the blankets damp with tears, he regained enough composure to speak amid his crying, though still keeping his head buried, muffling his voice.

"How—how can you ask me to—after everything—" he sniveled. "You saw what happened—what I did to it—how can you think I should—have it _back?_"

Landia paused before responding, the four heads shaking for a moment before the eyes regained their firmed stares.

"You should have it back, so you can make up for the way you treated it. You forced it to fight Landia, twice, and you forced it to fight the people who helped you. Your foolishness made it suffer. You can redeem yourself to the Lor Starcutter by being the best pilot it could ever have."

Magolor turned away from the bed and blankets to look back at Landia with his watery eyes.

"This is..really..what you want me to do?" he sniffled.

"You brought the Lor Starcutter out, and you activated it. You impressed yourself on it, and it has become attached to you. You need to take care of what you committed yourself to." Landia stated with a bit of a sharper glare. "Use it. Go where you want with it, but Landia will not welcome your presence."

Magolor rubbed a gloved hand against the tears on his face. He thought about being able to use the Lor to go anywhere he wanted to. But then another thought occurred to him.

"The ship..the legends said that it could have a mind of its own. If you know that it's become attached to me..then..do you know about this?"

The four dragons made a snorting noise. "If you are true to the ship, you will find out in time. Landia will not be the one to tell you."

With another few sniffles, Magolor rubbed away the rest of the tears, his eyes lighting back up with renewed vigor. He floated out of the room, the dragons parting to get out of his way as he went. Where the Lor Starcutter waited, looking as good as new, Magolor soon rushed out. Like welcoming a cherished friend, he went straight up to where the hull met with the dirt, pressing his hands and the side of his face to it, as wide of a hug as he was able to give. Though the metals looked cold, it felt warm with energy.

"I'll make myself the best pilot ever for you, Lor! I promise!"

With closed, smiling eyes, Magolor gripped a little harder on the hull, trying to get as much emotion into the gesture as possible, hoping the ship would be able to feel his genuineness. After some quiet moments of hugging, he overheard the sound of wings flapping. He looked up in time to notice, past the ship, up in the muggy sky, the four dragons were flying back to their volcano. Magolor waved a hand goodbye to them, although they never looked back to see it. He silently hoped that Landia knew he was grateful for what it had done for him, as he certainly felt he didn't deserve such generosity.

Letting go of the Lor Starcutter, he hovered himself up, higher and higher, until he reached the deck. He stopped at the rims of the emblem, and for a minute or two, took in the beautiful view of the sunlight shimmering over the ship's metals, pulsing with the glow of violet energy, smelling of winds and star dust.

Magolor couldn't help feeling greatly comforted to have the ship as his own now.

Now in a rush, cape spanned out as he moved, he hurried inside the main deck. The familiar giant screen was there, black all across with nothing showing, and the candy-colored illuminated console before it hummed, everything looking as neat and clean as it had the first time he repaired it. Magolor swiftly pressed down on one of the large, star-shaped buttons, bringing the screen to life. The first image to appear in its digital light was Planet Popstar, showing as a destination course. His glowing eyes blinked at this, confused, as he was quite certain that wasn't the last thing he had left on the screen before leaving the ship to get the Master Crown.

Magolor silently wondered to himself if, perhaps, the Lor wanted him to go to Popstar. He dipped his head down, eyes pointed at the console, but looking straight through it as his thoughts tumbled around. Kirby and his friends wouldn't want him back, he was sure of this. But if the Lor wanted him to go there..maybe there was a good reason to. He did enjoy the world very much for the duration he was there, and if on better terms, he would be enamored with the idea of hanging around. A brief chill ran through Magolor as he recalled his battle against Kirby. The pink puff tried so hard to stop the abomination he became. And stop him he did.

Magolor's hands lifted off the console for a moment as he looked back up at the screen, an epiphany hitting him like a slap to the face. _ Kirby saved him._ After all the lies and trouble he put him through, Kirby was the one that ended his nightmare. If anyone was in dire need of apologies, it was Kirby. Now Magolor knew, he _had _to go back to Popstar, so that he could do something to make it all up to him. Something more than simply saying he's sorry. He would do much more than that!

A gloved hand slammed down with renewed hope on the console. The destination confirmed, the Lor Starcutter lifted up out of the mound, clumps of dirt flaking off the underside of the lustrous hull as it pulled up into the sky. A new star-shaped portal opened before the ship, and through it, it zoomed, blasting off in a grand flash of light.

From its volcanic perch, the four dragons of Landia watched as the ship vanished, and the portal closed behind it. They nodded knowingly, thoughtfully.

_The Lor Starcutter wouldn't get attached to just anyone. It had been crafted specifically for one person. It was meant to be piloted by that one person. Maybe someday, if you take good care of it, the Lor Starcutter will tell you who you really are, Magolor..._


End file.
